


The Pickle Jar

by NarcolepChii



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Canon Universe, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Silly Situations, Slice of Life, some implied USUK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarcolepChii/pseuds/NarcolepChii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a bunch of little NedPan drabbles that I thought I'd contribute to the NedPan/Nedfem!Pan side of this fandom. Ranges from subtle fluff to extreme fluff to general weirdness. Now complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Paint Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kiku is painting and the gardener happened to be nearby.
> 
> [College AU where Kiku is an art student]

Kiku was running out of ideas. Flowers, vases, and the assorted objects filling the studio had since become boring, what with his sketch book now filled with their practice images. It was time to find something else to draw. But what?

A noise from the window drew his attention. The school gardener had since done his rounds and was now trimming the edges on the bushes. He did not seem to notice Kiku or really care that there was anyone else around at all. He quickly cut the overgrown edges before he went on his way.

It was here that Kiku found his inspiration. Once the gardener was at a safe distance he pulled his stool to the window. Thankfully for him the gardener did not move too quickly and he could take his time drawing the figure.

The moment the draft was down on paper, Kiku began to redraw it. His eyes jumped from paper to the outdoors as the gardener moved along the hedges and off into the garden to water a small patch of tulips. Every time he looked he picked up more details of the man.

He had broad shoulders and a pointed chin that stood out from his face. Prominent cheekbones and scruffy hair that seemed to laugh at gravity. His eyes were a cold grey, indifferent to the things happening around him, with a long and crooked nose running between them. A strong pair of hands grasped a pair of hedge trimmers and an old metal watering can. The gardener’s clothes were nothing fancy; a simple grass-stained shirt and pair of slacks.

Before he knew it, the page was beginning to fill up with various sketches and poses of the stranger. Kiku took his eyes off the wandering gardener to look down at his work, finding it to his liking. He wasn’t usually very good at drawing people. But, as it seemed, drawing figures doing natural things was much easier than drawing naked models in the classroom.

Perhaps that was due to his embarrassment upon seeing the women models.

“Can I help you?”

The voice caught him off guard. In the time that he had spent reviewing his work, the gardener had come back to the window. He was staring at Kiku with the same, indifferent stare that he had given the foliage. But Kiku still felt as if he were judging him, and he pulled his sketches to him in an attempt to hide them.

“N…No. I was simply—!”

The man reached a hand up and pulled down the sketchbook. “Huh.” He eyed each sketch carefully. “You’re not half bad at that.”

“…Th…thank you.”

With that, the gardener released his sketch book and turned to leave. Kiku breathed a sigh of relief and quickly moved away from the window to avoid any more unwanted embarrassment. That certainly was close. He had thought the gardener would have gotten upset with him for staring him down.

As he set his sketchbook down on the table near him, something fell unnoticed out of the spiral binding. A lone red tulip, possibly from the school flower garden, was now resting on the floor.


	2. Scarves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which scarves are dangerous.

“I’m just going to rake the yard.”

“Whether you’re going out to rake the yard or go to the store, it’s still a good idea. It’s cold. You’ll need it.”

Miro huffed. He didn’t need a scarf. It wasn’t that cold outside. He had definitely been through much, much worse weather back at his own house without a scarf and had been just fine. A simple coat would do. A scarf would make him feel too hot.

But Kiku, being Kiku, wasn’t going to let him leave the house without making absolutely sure that he was covered head to toe. For the past ten minutes Kiku had been following him around with a scarf in hand, putting on his best grumpy face and refusing to let him go out any of the doors.

“Honestly, Kiku. Listen to me. I’ll be just fine.”

“No, you listen to me.” Kiku said, in a slightly more stern than usual tone of voice. “I don’t want you to get sick. And that means you’re going to wear this,” He lifted the blue and white-striped scarf into view, “when you go outside.”

Miro finally let out a sigh and shook his head. Kiku certainly knew how to be stubborn when he wanted to be. ”If I put it on, would you finally let me go outside and clean up the leaves?”

This answer seemed to please Kiku, who gave off the faintest of smiles for mere seconds.

“Of course.”

Kiku gestured for Miro to lean over, and he complied. The smaller man wrapped the scarf around the other’s neck several times until it seemed that it wouldn’t fall off too easily. For a moment Miro and Kiku locked eyes. Kiku gave another rare smile that made Miro wonder why he was refusing the scarf in the first place.

“…Yeah, I’ll…head outside now. Thanks I guess.”

He quickly turned and approached the nearest door. Though, once he reached it, he’d suddenly forgotten what it was he had set out to do in the first place. Miro glanced back at Kiku, who was covering an amused smile.

“The leaves, Miro.”

He felt his face heat up. He covered his face with the scarf, turned quickly on his heels, and opened the door. “Right. Of course. It’s not like I forgot about it or anything. I was just…I’m going to go rake the leaves now.”

And now he was too hot, exactly as he feared.

Damn scarves.


	3. The Thought That Counts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which gifts are given.
> 
> [College AU; unrelated to the setting of 'Paint Me']

"You  _still_  haven’t gotten him anything?”

Kiku jolted a little and turned to his right, where Alfred was seated. He held a large gift box with red and green stripes and one too many bows on top and carefully spun it around on one finger. “The deadline is in a couple days, you know.

"N…No, I have not." Kiku answered quietly with a shake of his head. He turned back toward his newspaper with a sigh. "It is…difficult to decide on a good gift for someone whom you have never met."

"I hear you!" Alfred smiled to his friend. "I mean, when I pulled out Arthur’s name from the pile I was like— _Arthur Kirkland_? What the hell do I get for Arthur Kirkland? I hardly know the guy!” He let the present rest in his lap. “But then I realized that I shouldn’t worry too much about it. It’s not what you get, it’s the thought that counts!”

Kiku smiled a faint little smile. It had been a couple weeks since their circle of friends drew names out of a hat for this year’s Secret Santa. While everyone, it seemed, had immediately gone out and gotten their presents for each other, using their handy dandy wishlists, Kiku was left at a loss. Because he’d been given the only person—other than Arthur, who was convinced that he needed nothing even though everyone knew otherwise—who didn’t write up a wishlist, Miro van Dyk. Francis had hypothesized that Miro was, for lack of a better term, too lazy to care.

Miro was one of Francis’ friends, whom Kiku had met all of once; the day Francis introduced them to each other. Miro was a rather strange man with wild hair and a stoic expression that made him seem like he bored about everything in life. Kiku saw Miro around sometimes, usually on the streets or trimming a neighbor’s bushes. That was his job, he was a landscaper. Apparently.

When Kiku had gone to ask Francis what it was that Miro wanted for Christmas, he’d gotten a shrug. Francis, apparently, was as clueless as he was. It seemed that Miro was a rather mysterious entity. But when Francis offered to swap names with him, Kiku declined. Yes, it was an incredible challenge, but Kiku didn’t want to throw in the towel just yet.

But here he was, so close to the deadline. And nothing to show for it. He was taking the bus with his good friend Alfred to meet up with another friend, Arthur, in a little coffee shop in town. Kiku figured that he would poke around the shops in town afterwards, but he was starting to get a little nervous that he wouldn’t find something decent enough in time.

What was he supposed to get for someone like Miro, anyway?

The bus slowed to a halt. The doors slid open and passengers spilled out, Kiku and Alfred included. They dispersed every which-way while Kiku and Al simply stood at the bus stop to check the time and get their bearings.

"Okay, I told Arthur we’d meet him at the Starbucks in town at five." Alfred said as he checked his watch. "…Aaand, it’s half past five. Whoops." He let out a laugh. "I hope he’s not too mad at us."

Kiku tried to smile a little to his friend and let out a quiet chuckle. “I’m sure he will be. That’s how Arthur is.”

 

* * *

 

"Alfred."

"Arthur."

"Exactly what am I supposed to do with this… ** _thing_**?”

"It’s a pillow pet, Arthur!" Alfred said. "You can use it as a pillow, or as a stuffed animal!"

"I’m a grown man, Alfred."

"So? What’s wrong with a grown man playing with a pillow pet?"

Arthur didn’t seem as thrilled about his gift as Alfred was. That gift that Alfred had gotten him wasn’t even close to what he was expecting, obviously. His face had gone from intrigued to slightly horrified when he learned that behind that fancy wrapping paper was a rainbow colored unicorn pillow pet.

Kiku wasn’t great friends with Arthur, but he knew him well enough to know that the other liked to think of himself as being older than he really was. And so a pillow pet was probably the worst decision that Alfred could have made. Except in the fact that being beat up by a pillow pet would hurt less than anything else. Which was what Arthur seemed to want to do with it.

But even this had the adverse reaction to what Arthur wanted, as Alfred was laughing way too hard to notice how grumpy Arthur was.

"Hey, y’know, it’s your fault for not writing up a proper wishlist!" Alfred said.

"No, it’s  _your_  fault for not thinking like a proper adult!” Arthur bopped Alfred on the head with the unicorn again.

"It’s the thought that counts, Arthur!"

Arthur huffed. “Bloody hell…” He mumbled under his breath. He then turned to Kiku, who was watching with a hidden smile. “Miro didn’t write a wishlist, did he? And I’m sure you managed to find him a sensible gift?” He glanced back at Alfred. “Unlike certain people.”

Kiku straightened up and the small smile disappeared. “Ah…yes, about that.” He started.

"Kiku hasn’t gotten him anything." Kiku shot Alfred a look, and he returned with a shrug. "Well, it’s true."

Arthur blinked. “Oh, really? I’d have thought you would have found something by now. You’ve always been good at figuring out exactly what we want.”

"Ah…" Kiku withdrew into himself. Honestly, it wasn’t that difficult to figure out what everyone liked. Especially if he knew them well, or if they acted like Alfred, who was fairly open to hint at least two hundred times to everyone about what was on his wishlist. "That’s…only when they are people I know," he said quietly. "I’ve never really met Miro before."

"So that’s it, then?" Arthur said, as he set aside the pillow pet and settled back down in his chair. "Well, I’ve met him a few times. I wouldn’t call us  _friends_ , per say, but I suppose I know a thing or two about him…” Kiku perked up and looked to Arthur, silently pleading for some direction to go in. “Er…I’ve seen him muck around with plants and flowers more often than not.”

“ _Flowers?_ " Alfred said incredulously. "A big, tough looking guy like Miro’s all about flowers? Huh." He casually reached out for the pillow pet and tucked it between his knees and his chin. "I would’ve thought he was into drugs or…or motorcycles or something."

Arthur let out a short sigh and gave Alfred a look. “Don’t judge by appearances, Alfred.” The other simply rolled his eyes and cuddled further into the pillow pet. Arthur turned back toward Kiku. “Perhaps…look for something in the gardening shop? You have a garden yourself, do you not? I’m sure you can think of something useful to get him.”

"It would be a good place to start, yes."

Suddenly the muffled sound of “It’s time to d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-duel!” came from under the table. Alfred let out an ‘oh’, set aside the rainbow unicorn, and reached to pull his phone out of his pocket.

“…Why is Matt calling me?” He mumbled. He glanced at his two friends before answering the call, getting up, and hurrying off somewhere else. "I’ll, uh, I’ll just be a second—!"

Once Alfred had disappeared from view, Arthur glanced back at the unicorn pillow pet that he had so disliked upon opening the box. He hesitated before grabbing a hold of it and setting it on his lap out of sight. He glanced at Kiku with a look that read “Tell no one of this”. Kiku simply smiled a small smile and said nothing of it.

"Er…back to what I was saying." Arthur cleared his throat. "There’s a little gardening shop not too far from here. Perhaps a couple blocks. I frequent it in the spring and summer, it should have whatever he needs to garden. Oh, and perhaps a few leftover winter blooming flowers."

"Is that so? That would be a very useful shop, then."

An idea formed in Kiku’s mind. But would it be rude to leave Arthur and Alfred so soon after they had only just arrived? He glanced at the window, and then back at Arthur, who gestured for Kiku to go while he still could. Kiku bit his lip and glanced in the general direction of Alfred,which made Arthur roll his eyes.

"Doesn’t he always get in long conversations with his brother? You could leave and come back and he probably wouldn’t have even noticed you gone. That, and the store closes soon. You’d best go now."

Kiku glanced to Arthur, then in the direction of Alfred. Then, he stood up, with a nod to Arthur, and then scurried out the door.

 

* * *

 

Just under ten minutes later the little flower and garden shop closed for the evening. But not before Kiku walked out with a little bundle of winter blooming flowers, pansies, the last that the shop had. The little old lady working the counter had given him advice on the plant, where to put it, when to plant it, and what not to do with it, which he planned to pass onto Miro.

Kiku held the plant firmly yet carefully, being careful not to damage the delicate flowers on top. He weaved his way through the crowds of people on the street, trying to get back to the little coffee shop where his two friends were waiting for him. Surely Alfred would have gotten off the phone by now and noticed his absence. And who really knew how long Arthur could put up with Alfred? They really didn’t seem to get along terribly well.

But just as he was nearing the shop someone stopped him. Someone rather tall and intimidating. Kiku looked up to see a familiar man wrapped up in a blue and white striped scarf staring back down at him. He clutched the flowers closer to himself. Miro eyed the flowers and then looked at Kiku without his expressionless face changing.

"I see you plan to do some winter gardening."

"They’re not for me," Kiku said quietly, looking off in another direction.

"Ah." Miro blinked. "So you were the one who drew my name. I didn’t think you would go through the trouble of actually getting me something, seeing as I didn’t leave you a list."

Kiku’s shoulders sagged a bit. “I…I will admit that it was very difficult trying to figure out what it was you would like. It would have been much easier if you had simply left a note of what it was you wanted.” He looked from the flowers to Miro. “I was going to wrap these, but I suppose it’s futile now that you’ve seen them…”

He held out the pansies to the other, who stared at them for a moment before accepting them. Miro’s face showed little interest in the flowers, instead his eyes were focusing on Kiku, which made him shrink a bit. "Ah…" Kiku shifted a little under the other’s gaze, and remembered something that Alfred had said to him earlier. "It’s…It’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?"

He eyed Kiku for a moment longer, and then looked into the window of the nearby shop. Kiku followed his gaze into the cafe, where he spotted Alfred and Arthur seated together. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he spotted a ghost of a small smile on Miro’s face. And, were his cheeks a bit pink or was that simply because of the cold? 

"Mm. The reason I didn’t send in a list was because the thing I wanted can’t be bought or wrapped. But these flowers are a lovely gift in its place. Thank you."

Kiku wanted to ask what he meant by that, what exactly it was that Miro wanted, but he didn’t have the chance as Miro spoke up once again. “…Are you…free right now?” He asked quietly. “Free enough for a short walk? I don’t believe we’ve met properly.”

Kiku looked back into the cafe to his two friends. He was surprised to see that whatever discomfort was there between the two had suddenly vanished. Alfred was laughing and smiling at something or other, and Arthur was hiding a small smirk behind a cup of tea, that tacky rainbow unicorn still seated on his lap. Kiku glanced to Miro, then back at his friends, then back to Miro. Perhaps…a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt anything. He smiled a little at Miro and nodded.

"We have plenty of time."


	4. I Ship It Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it's weird to ship real people, but sometimes you just can't help it. And sometimes you make interesting friends when you do.
> 
> [Another College AU setting. This one has Fem!Japan. If you don't like USUK/UKUS then run, run awaaaaaay]

They were at it once again.

In the far corner, seemingly hidden away from everyone else, they were sat side-by-side in two chairs that they had pushed together.

In Arthur’s lap was a plastic container of homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. If one didn’t know better, they’d think it was an attempt to keep Alfred, who absolutely detested raisins, out and away from the box.

However, Arthur was dutifully breaking the cookies into smaller pieces, picking out the raisins, and handing said pieces to the American beside him, who was eating them with a wide grin on his face. Said American had also curled what seemed to be a sneaky arm around Arthur’s shoulders to bring the other closer and whispered something into his ear. Whatever it was, it made Arthur flush a light shade of red.

Haruko couldn’t tear her eyes away from them. God.  _Why_  were they so adorable. She crumpled her papers ever so slightly in her hands. Every single time she looked again they got even more adorable, too.

As interesting as class was—and by interesting, she meant boring. They had been watching a old video on the Spanish-American War, possibly from the 1950’s, for nearly an hour and a half and few people were even still awake—Alfred and Arthur were far more interesting.

And how had nobody but her noticed their love fests in the back of the room, anyway? They always did this, every single movie day.

Sometimes they cuddled, or whispered sweet nothings to each other that Haruko couldn’t hear, other times they were simply holding hands or eating food, like today, and every so often they ended up swapping careful, delicate kisses when they thought nobody was looking.

All in all their ‘secret’ romance in the back of the room was becoming sickeningly sweet to watch. At times Haruko would even go out of her way to catch glimpses of them passing by in the hallway or in another classroom.

 _I don’t ship them_ , Haruko thought to herself as she kept a close, but also casual eye on them.  _It’s creepy to ship real people. For the love of god, I **don’t**  ship them!_

“Hey. Haruko.”

The sound made her jump. She scrambled back into the normal position in the desk and hastily tried to flatten the papers on her desk. Then she looked to the left, where the call had came from.

“Y…Yes? Can I help you?”

To her immediate left, between the sleeping Grecian exchange student and the obnoxious German one jamming out to whatever was on his iPod, was someone she knew to be the school gardener. She’d never gotten his name. All she knew was that he both worked on campus, pruning trees and tending to flowers, and attended classes.

This was also the first time they talked.

“Were you watching them?” 

He gestured back at Alfred and Arthur. The oatmeal cookies were now gone from Arthur’s lap and instead Alfred was seated there. His arms were around Arthur’s neck in a casual embrace while Arthur’s were loosely hanging around Alfred’s waist.

Despite the cuteness that she’d love to keep an eye on, Haruko quickly averted her gaze from the pair and twiddled her fingers. If she said yes, that would be weird, wouldn’t it?

Yes. Watching classmates like that was  _definitely_  weird.

“…U…Um…”

“…It’s okay if you were.” Haruko looked up and met the other student’s eyes. The gardener glanced both ways before leaning in towards her ear.

“I ship them too.”

They’d only just met and Haruko could already feel the start of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

 

Her new friend’s name was Miro, and as it turned out he really did ship Alfred and Arthur. And, if it was even possible, he shipped them more than she did.

Their first meet-ups were a bit awkward. As far as Haruko knew, she and Miro had nothing in common outside of their shipping preferences. They didn’t talk much and when they did it was about how strange Alfred and Arthur could be sometimes or how they possibly got away with their strange little shenanigans in class.

But, soon, they found that they got along quite well. Haruko would soon discover that outside of gardening and shipping, Miro was also interested in rabbits (especially the tiny Netherland Dwarf breed, he had two of those), speaking Dutch (which Haru had taken an interest in long ago and still knew a bit about), and flower arrangements which made him all the more interesting to her. 

They started to spend much more time together, sometimes on the school grounds, sometimes even spending time at each others’ houses. Whenever Haruko was working on homework at school, sometimes Miro would stop her in order to bring her to the school flower garden to look at an exotic looking flower, or bird, or even a wild rabbit that was prowling the garden for plants.

Like today, for instance.

"Haruko."

She was in the library, surrounded by open notebooks, textbooks, and a variety of crumpled pieces of lined paper. Math homework wasn’t her specialty and this homework was really kicking her butt. When her friend called out to her, she looked up, hair a bit frazzled.

"What?"

"There’s something in the garden I need to show you."

Haruko made a face. “Miro, if it’s another rabbit, I swear—!”

But Miro simply shook his head, turned around, and started back out of the library, gesturing for Haru to follow him. In return Haruko rolled her eyes and groaned, moving to sweep her things into her bag and quickly follow after him. He’d better have a good reason to pull her away this time. It’d been rabbits all week long.

Haruko had to walk quickly to keep up with Miro, who seemed to be in a hurry to get back to the garden. He expertly maneuvered around groups of students and teachers, obstacles, and doors, while Haru floundered around behind him after trying to politely squeeze and worm through a group of girls who wouldn’t move an inch for her.

Finally, upon reaching the garden, Haru discovered that she lost Miro. With a huff, she stomped on through the hedges and onto the little cobblestone pathway that led through the gardens. She went to the usual place, but didn’t find him. She went to the little outdoor classroom and yet again saw that Miro was nowhere to be seen. So where  _did_  he go?

Haruko continued to wander through the maze of hedges, hoping that her gardener friend would show up at some point.

"Miro!" She called out. "C’mon, this isn’t funny. I’ve got a test tomorrow and—!"

Suddenly, a hand reached out of a hedge and pulled her in, not even giving her time to scream. She struggled against the hold until she saw that it was in fact her missing friend. She made a face at him and then scowled.

"Why did you leave me behind in the dust?" Again Miro said nothing, instead pressing a finger to her lips and pointing through the hedges. Haruko furrowed her brow and glanced in the direction indicated. “…I don’t see the—Oh.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “ _Oh_.”

Instead of a rabbit, or flower, or something silly that Haruko didn’t want to spend her time on, it was something much better.

There on one of the benches was Alfred and Arthur. Alfred was laying over top of Arthur, with his head resting on Arthur’s chest, mouth hanging open, and arm dangling over the side of the bench. Arthur was sitting up on the bench, leaning against a bundle of coats, reading one of his textbooks with a small smile on his face.

"After this, I was thinking of heading to the ice cream shop. I heard they’ve got a new flavor there." Arthur said quietly, stroking Alfred’s hair. "I know you’re flat broke, so I’ll pay for us this time. Would you like that?"

Alfred didn’t seem to be listening, but he nodded weakly and then yawned. “Mm. Sure, Art. Sounds great. I’m really looking forward to it.”

"You’re falling asleep, aren’t you."

"Nooope. Not at all."

Arthur snorted. “Yes, yes you are.” He said, once again stroking Alfred. “I thought you said you were just going to lay down for a minute or two, hm? That you weren’t all that tired? Who’s the one that’s got to go to work in an hour?”

"It’s more your fault than mine, you know." Alfred smiled sleepily. "You make such a great pillow. You should just be my pillow full time." Arthur bopped him on the head gently with his book and Alfred smirked. “Whaaaat?”

Haruko watched the two talk on and on with a huge smile on her face that only grew when they descended into a casual tickle war. She glanced back at Miro to see his reaction. It was his usual stoic, uninterested look which was generally very deceiving. Haruko only wondered how he could watch them with that sort of face on.

"…This is much better than the bunnies." Haurko spoke up quietly, grabbing Miro’s attention. "Definitely worth the cut in study time."

"Mm. They came out here while I was cutting back one of the bushes and I decided to finish work later and leave them alone."

Haruko glanced back at them. They were now cuddled up again under the coats with Arthur’s textbook on the ground where, in Haruko’s mind, it should stay. She then turned to Miro again. “…How are these two not giving you cavities yet? You’ve always got that same face on whenever we see them.”

She poked one of Miro’s cheeks and he hummed in response.

"My face always looks like this." He said, not taking his eyes off of Alfred and Arthur. He glanced at Haruko out of the corner of his eye for a moment, before he got up and quietly left the hedge with Haruko in tow.

"They certainly are cute, aren’t they?"

"Mm."

"It feels kind of weird to creep on them like we’ve been doing, but at the same time we really can’t help it, can we?"

"Mhm."

"…You’re not listening, are you?"

"Mhm—" He turned around to face a pouting Haru, which he smirked just a bit at. "I was listening, trust me."

"Suuuure you were."

Miro took a few steps away from Haru before he halted again. “Ahh…yes. Those two reminded me…” He looked back. “I was thinking maybe we could stop by the ice cream place in town later today? I get off work early today and I thought we could spend some time together. I’m buying.”

"Oh, well I—!" Haruko blinked. Wait, was Miro asking what she thought he was asking. "…W-Wait a second, do you mean like—" She glanced to the hedge, then to Miro, then back at the hedge. "—like, we’re going to watch those two again or are you like...asking me out on a date?"

Miro simply shrugged. "Whatever you want it to be, I guess." 

Then, he picked up his tools and wandered off in another direction, leaving Haruko to her thoughts. For a moment she simply stared after him, not entirely sure what to say. But then she felt her face heating up. Was all that just to ask her out? …Did he even ask her out?

What on earth just happened?


	5. Those Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kiku has a number of insecurities about himself and his relationship...but also wonders to himself if he's just being a bit paranoid.

Every year the Netherlands sent flowers to Canada in gratitude for their service to them in the second World War. And every year Kiku couldn’t help but feel more and more jealous about that.

It wasn’t as though Matthew posed any real threat to him, no, the Canadian was friendly and open with him. Not to mention Miro had made it abundantly clear that he was planning to be devoted when Kiku voiced his concerns about being so-called “boring and unexciting”. But Kiku couldn’t help but feel awkward and unsure whenever Miro brought Matthew into anything.

Now Miro and Matthew had been long time friends, Kiku knew this well. He didn’t know for sure if Miro had met Matthew before or after he’d met him, and he worried that asking would provoke Miro to investigate further into Kiku’s doubts. Which he wasn’t so interested in voicing this time around.

Despite what Miro had claimed before, Kiku still worried. He worried greatly. Matthew, friend or otherwise, surely was more exciting than he was. He had caught Miro and Matthew doing things that Kiku would have never been caught dead doing…and each time Kiku felt a pang of sadness, for his boyfriend seemed to always have so much fun. Without him.

It was true that Kiku was a bit of a shut in, never one to enjoy being around large groups with loud activities for more than a short, designated amount of time. He was a bit of a self-conscious, introverted person. He did enjoy DDR with Alfred and Haruko out in the open but that was…Alfred and Haruko with DDR. Miro’s ideas of fun didn’t always center around what he was interested.

Sure, they enjoyed gardening. And rabbits. And it wasn’t difficult for Kiku to enjoy long conversations in Dutch, which wasn’t something Miro could do with every nation—or _Matthew_ , for that matter. But there was still the fact that none of these activities were relatively exciting. They certainly weren’t getting high in the middle of nowhere and then riding bikes off into the sunset while cackling like hyenas.

These thoughts always brought Kiku back into wallowing around in his usual pit of self pity. Was he too boring for his boyfriend? Did he quietly, secretly crave someone else to be with? Someone more exciting with whom he could smile and laugh and enjoy himself to the fullest?

Someone like  _Matthew_?

Kiku had, somehow, someway, gotten on topic about this with Alfred, who simply laughed at what he had to say.

"Miro? With  _Matt_?” He’d let out a hardy laugh, followed with a shake of the head. “ _Please_ , Kiku. I don’t think Miro has the patience to deal with Matthew for more than a few hours. I’m telling you, the guy’s a nut. He may look scrawny and normal, but the guy’s a bear-hunting  _lumberjack_  in disguise.”

Kiku wasn’t entirely sure what traits were instilled in a lumberjack, save for the obvious trait of cutting down trees, but he still had his doubts. Alfred didn’t know Miro as well as he did. He still couldn’t shake that horrible feeling that he wasn’t satisfied. That he was only with Kiku until he managed to attract the attention of someone else. Someone who he’d send a personal bunch of flowers to every year.

There were days, though, that he he didn’t feel this way at all. Those were the days when he’d be cooking in the kitchen and Miro would catch him from behind in a careful hug. Kiku would always remind him not to catch him off guard, but Miro never listened, instead using the opportunity to kiss Kiku on the lips, and then offer to help him with whatever dish he was making. Miro was terribly awkward in Kiku’s kitchen, even worse than Alfred was, but they always shared plenty of laughs, even if whatever was being made didn’t turn out as well as it should have.

There were also the days when Miro would arrive on his doorstep suddenly, arms full of grocery bags. Those were the days when Miro would smirk and hide the bags until Kiku guessed properly what was inside. Sometimes they were filled with his favorite European brand of coffee, and others contained enough frozen steaks for two weeks. Those days, Miro would present the bags like trophies, with an added forehead kiss, small hug, and loving mumbles in Dutch. 

And then there were the days, his favorite days, when he was at home, seated cozily on Miro’s lap, all curled up in the kotatsu, with the rabbits in his lap, neither of them inclined to move at all. The days when he simply would lean back into Miro’s chest and sigh happily, and the other would lean down to kiss his hair and nuzzle his cheek. He would send Miro one of his timid smiles and the other would return with one of his more friendly smirks. Neither of them would say anything at all, preferring to sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company, and quietly confirming just how much the other cared.

It was those days, those days in particular that made Kiku even more on the fence about his insecurities. He never felt like a third wheel, or even a second choice, but he truly felt as if he was the only person in the world to Miro. And whenever he thought about it, that would make him smile. Maybe, just maybe, he would try to care a bit less about whenever Miro sent flowers to Matthew.

Or, perhaps, he’d have to gently imply that he’d like a tiny bundle of his own next time the other decided to surprise him on his doorstep.


	6. Even After Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it's difficult to say, all things considered.
> 
> [A Modern AU setting with an implied split between Kiku and Miro]

"Yes, I’ve known Kiku for years. We were roommates at university."

Arthur said it almost gleefully. Clearly, Kiku was a very close friend of his and he wasn’t at all ashamed of admitting it. I’d asked him a few questions about their relationship, and he merely laughed and waved me off.

"There’s not much to say, unfortunately. We’ve never been the most exciting of friends. A little tea here, a few outings there, neither of us were much the party type. Most of the time we spent out days in, studying like the good little future graduates we were. He was the one who introduced me to Alfred, as a matter of fact."

Arthur settled back in his seat with a smile, recalling the memories fondly. I wondered to myself what kinds of things were running through his mind.

"I, on the other hand, was the one who introduced Kiku to him. Not as directly as he with Alfred…but in a roundabout sort of way." He said, making a vague hand gesture. I nodded. "I was a member of the gardening club—The club leader, actually. Kiku joined at my request sometime in our sophmore year. It took him a while to get to know everyone but I can say that everyone took to him very quickly."

"He was one of the older members of the club. Great with his hands, excellent when it came to facts about flowers. I wasn’t ever really sure on what his major was, exactly, but he’d certainly have done well in botany."

A chuckle.

"If you’ve seen his picture, you’d know he’s definitely not the person you’d want your nana seeing you with— _definitely_  not the kind of person you would think Kiku wanted to associate with—and yet they became such close friends. Odd, but I never thought much about it. They seemed happy, and I was a bit busy with…my own romantic ventures.”

Arthur’s eyes were full of youthful memories of happier times and faraway places. He was trying to keep the conversation away from the inevitable, it seemed, but when his shoulders sagged, I assumed he ran out of things to stall me with.

"I’m sorry—I don’t know much more about their relationship back then. I didn’t want to pry." He let out a quiet sigh. "Everything seemed all right between them—Never a complaint from Kiku, and the little one was always quiet, he’s a bit shy—You can only imagine my surprise when he arrived on our doorstep that evening. I knew he wasn’t the type to  _cause_  trouble, so of course something or someone must have gotten him  _in_  trouble..”

He paused, his shoulders straightened, and he looked down at his tea thoughtfully. 

"He was…I’ve never seen him like that. Not ever. I wasn’t even sure what to do at first. And when he told me what had happened—I was—It was incredible, really."

The tea cup went back to meet its saucer. Arthur was done talking.

 

* * *

 

"If you ask me, he was trouble from the start."

Alfred had said it bluntly. His face was stern and serious, emotions that didn’t suit his usually friendly, caring face. He had a hot mug of cider in one hand that he sipped occasionally.

"Kiku’s been my friend for ages and I can tell you without a single doubt that he’s the most law abiding citizen in this entire country. If he dropped a candy wrapper on the ground, he’d feel guilty, clean it up, thoroughly apologize, and then suggest he make up for it. Kiku’s just that kind of guy."

He was cracking a joke, a feeble attempt at lightening the mood, but it didn’t change much. His face still had that severity to it that could make any laugh sound insensitive.

"Then  _he_  showed up.”

Alfred said it with a kind of forcefulness that lead me to believe that the very though of mentioning this person was disgusting.

"I met the guy a number of times. I didn’t spend too much time with him, I don’t think he liked me much.. I tried to make him crack a smile, pulled out all my best material just for him, but he just had that mask he wore all the time." Alfred’s face contorted and he put on his best impression. "Like this. All the time. Never smiled, never seemed happy. I seriously don’t get what Kiku saw in the guy."

He rubbed his temple.

"But who was I to rain on Kiku’s parade? If my best friend in the whole world was happy, then I sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin that. Heck, they even went and got a kid together—That says something about them."

His eyes narrowed. His fingers gripped the mug with a force that would surely break it into tiny pieces.

"I blame myself more than anyone."

 

* * *

 

“It was a Wednesday, I remember.”

He began slow and thoughtful, running his fingers distractedly over the lip of his mug. I eyed him carefully, watching his face for any change in emotion. Kiku was blank, neutral, but his eyes were very thoughtful. As to be expected from him.

“It was Wednesday, because I had to drop Daiki off at Alfred’s house. I had to go into work that day, usually I work from home. He was gone before I woke up. Not that that was unusual for him, really. Near the end, he always left before I got up and came home after I had gone to sleep. He had come home early the night before, but…” 

He tilted his gaze away, avoiding mine as he stared quietly out the window, memories stirring behind those brown eyes. I was curious, but hadn’t the heart to dig into his personal business more than I already was.

“He had…he came home  _very_  early that night. I was so surprised. It felt like I hadn’t seen him in months. The true him, that is. It really was…he always had this face he made, where you could tell he had a smile just there, hiding, but he wouldn’t let it out. But you could tell. I hadn’t seen that face in so long…”

He himself was making that face—a tiny hint of a smile that was both subtle yet enough to make the heater in the room flush with jealousy. Potent. I could tell. However I could still see that hidden quality underneath. There was no way of hiding it. Not even with his best smile.

“He played with Daiki all night, even during dinner, no matter how many times I told them to calm down.” A light chuckle. “I’ve never seen a baby so tired. Happy, too. He was smiling long after he fell asleep. Then, we…” 

His cheeks began to pink, and I felt my lips stretch into a smile – even without saying anything, I knew what had happened. His fingers curled around the mug. 

“It…it was the first time in a long time. He had been home so irregularly before that, and with Daiki around. I had been so confused, so upset with him too—I never wanted to be. But that night…”

His eyes drifted once more. His fingers shifted and changed their position.

“Something was different. I can’t explain it myself, but it was like we had found each other for the first time once more. That man from years ago was back and I spent that whole night foolishly indulging in it without a second thought.” 

Those eyes that had been so full of a soft, sad fondness a moment ago had turned hard; they stared down at the mug in his hands with such intensity for a moment I worried it might shatter.

“I should have known. I should have known when I woke up to an empty bed. I should have realized it when I found the stuffed rabbit in Daiki’s bedroom, when I saw the tulip on the kitchen table.”

His words were soft, so soft I might not have heard them, but with a harshness I had never heard from him before. Whether this was directed inwardly or outwardly, I did not know.

“I had thought to myself, ‘things are going to return to normal’. That was what I had thought all morning. I continued to think that even when he didn’t return that night. It was irrationally hopeful, I know. But it was something I wholly believed in—that is, until my credit card was rejected at the supermarket.”

I couldn’t mask my shock as his expression dampened once more, all severity gone as swiftly as it had appeared. His grip on the mug stayed firm and he continued despite my obvious astonishment, no doubt used to these sorts of reactions when he told his tale. Perhaps it had once been appreciated but that was clearly no longer the case.

“I simply couldn’t believe it. I remember asking the cashier over and over if he was sure, if this wasn’t some strange mistake, then calling the bank and asking over and over how our savings could have been sapped so quickly. A series of withdrawals, she told me, they had happened regularly over the past two months, thousands of dollars at a time. Our current balance was twenty five dollars and forty three cents, the last withdrawal being made on Thursday morning.”

It was said with a firm expression on his face, one that betrayed no emotion. Somehow, that face was worse than all of the others. He took a long moment after that, taking a generous sip of his coffee. I waited patiently for him to continue.

“It’s hard to remember what happened after that, I can recall leaving Daiki at Alfred’s house and the rest is…well, a blur.” I was relieved to see sheepishness on his face. “Arthur told me that when police brought me to them early the next day, I looked like I had been to hell and back.” This chuckle was a sad, fatigued one, “I probably had.”

“Alfred knew exactly what had happened without me having to say a word.” I couldn’t help but smile at that. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry in my life, both Arthur and I had to stop him from running back out the door as soon as he came in.” His eyes shut and he let out a soft sigh. “I wish he hadn’t told Haruko though. She could have done without…”

He caught himself in the middle of a thought, perhaps deeming it inappropriate as he generally seemed to do, and discarded it immediately. Honestly, I wish he would stop doing that.

“Despite how many times I told them not to, Arthur and Alfred insisted on supporting me until I managed to pick up extra work and save up enough money to live comfortably once more. It didn’t take long, I could have probably managed just fine.”

 _No, you couldn’t have_. My subconscious argued back.

“But I’m grateful for their help anyway. Besides, without them, I wouldn’t have found you, would I?” 

Finally, the first genuine smile since he had begun his tale. I gave him a most appreciative smile in return, before speaking up for the first time that evening.

“Do you have any idea what happened to him?” 

His face stayed stoic, but I could see several emotions flash across his eyes. His eyes always betrayed him, in the end.

“No. He’s not withdrawn any money or tried to contact me, or Daiki. To be honest, I—“

“Do you still love him?”

The question clearly caught him off guard. His eyes met mine for a brief moment, scanning me, before they dropped to his mug. He was silent for a long time, the constant hum of the heater being the only thing to break our silence.

“…It is difficult to say.” 

In other words, he did. 


	7. Ginza Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Haruko meets a very strange, very confused foreigner on the train.
> 
> [Modern AU starring Fem!Japan again]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brackets and italics stands for Japanese.

“[ _The doors are now closing. Please exercise caution._ ]”

Not that there was much caution needing to be exercised, really. From what Haruko had observed in her lifetime of living in Tokyo, the only people who rode the trains at this time were sleepy old folks, children returning from their morning kindergarten classes, mothers running errands with infants strapped to their chests, and people like her; working jobs that allowed one to skip the rush hour train.

She couldn’t thank the Gods more for that, really. She’d ridden both the morning and evening rush hour trains all through high school, she never wanted to experience the horror that was the experience of being packed like a sardine into the Marunouchi line from Hell ever again. 

Thankfully, though, it was a sleepy Wednesday morning. She was happy to relax in the practically empty car for the rest of her journey, whether it be napping a little or fiddling about with her phone. After noting just how much time she had, she wondered to herself if she should have brought a book with her.

“[ _Shinjuku station. The current station is Shinjuku station. Please mind the platform door._ ]”

Haruko honestly wouldn’t have looked up at all, if not for the older, chubby gentleman that squeezed into the seat next to her. As she shifted over slightly, allowing him plenty of room to sit down. For a moment her eyes left her phone and she scanned the car around her. It was then her eyes fell upon him.

A foreigner. 

Now, seeing a foreigner on the Tokyo metro lines wasn’t an uncommon experience; Haruko saw them all the time. Tourist groups, business men, college students – but this man looked like a mix of all three. He looked to be in his late twenties (maybe? It was so difficult to tell with foreigners), and his hair was all puffed up and styled like he’d just walked out of a host club. His clothes didn’t match at all though; a suit that befitted the most serious of businessmen with a briefcase to match. 

He had a look that she saw on foreigners quite often though – one of lost confusion. That tourist’s look of “I’m here but I cannot speak Japanese”.

“[ _For choosing Tokyo Metro for your commute, we humbly thank you. The next station is Shinjuku-Sanchoume, Shinjuku-Sanchome…_ ]”

The foreigner suddenly perked up, quickly locating the small television screen with announcement translations just above the door. His eyes read and read, scanned each word carefully, before he proceeded to glare at it as though it held all the answers to the universe. He then looked back down at a small half-crumpled sheet of paper in his palm. Haruko couldn’t see what it said, but she had a pretty good idea.

 _This must be the first time he’s riding the train._  Haruko thought. _Maybe he’s here on business._

The stranger’s gaze shifted from the paper to her in an instant, and for one extremely awkward moment their eyes met. Haruko was quick to look down – feigning a casual glance around before going back to her phone. She could feel her face heating up: honestly, she hadn’t meant to be staring, but he was just so…unusual. 

The train was silent after that for a while. Haruko dared not look up from her phone again. One embarrassing moment on the train in a day was more than enough for her. She played around with her phone for a little while, toying with the idea of bothering her older brother, Kiku, while he was at work, when suddenly she felt a presence looming over her.

“[ _Excuse me._ ]” 

Haruko jumped a bit at the sudden, horribly pronounced Japanese. She glanced up to find the friendly neighborhood foreigner towering over her, one hand clutching the handle above him, the other thrusting that tiny, crumpled piece of paper he was glaring at earlier in her face.

Haruko was typically a calm, collected Japanese woman, and this situation was no exception. But she couldn’t help but feel confused anxiety rise from her belly to her throat as she stared, bewildered, at the paper being thrust in her face. What did he want? What could the paper possibly say? Was he looking for someone who spoke English? She hadn’t spoken English since her last class in High School at least eight years ago – how could she possibly direct him to someone who could? 

She glanced helplessly from the intimidating man before her to the more familiar Japanese man to her right – to find he was avoiding the situation as much as he could, nose in his newspaper, effectively blocking both herself and the foreigner from view. 

Honestly. Men were useless. There was a reason why she wasn’t married yet, after all. 

Glancing hesitantly back toward the foreigner and his paper, Haruko decided to take a ‘fuck it’ approach and see what he could possibly want. She gently took the crumpled rag of a paper and unfolded it, just barely keeping her nervous hands from trembling. 

_Start: Hotel - > Shinjuku Station -> Ginza Station -> Higashi-Ginza Station -> ΔOΔ Company Building. End.   
_

_Prease take Marunouchi line, change at Ginza station to Hibiya Line._

Oh, phew. Even with her meager English skills, she could get the basic gist of what he needed. She glanced back up at the foreigner – who was staring at her with one of the scariest faces she’d ever seen. 

Did he wake up in a bad mood this morning, or was that just his face? 

She hesitated for a moment—how exactly did one go explaining where to get off to someone who more than likely couldn’t speak any Japanese?—before timidly standing, placing her purse on her seat (to hold her spot, of course) and shuffling quickly over to the door, motioning for the man to follow. Thankfully he seemed to understand, quickly following her to the middle of the train, intense look unwavering.

As if she wasn’t nervous enough already. 

“[ _Let’s see…_ ]” She started quietly, mentally kicking herself for beginning in Japanese. She glanced at the man to make sure he was listening. Standing on her tip toes, she pointed toward the station they were currently heading toward. 

“Here,” She hesitated a bit, desperately scraping together what was left of her English lessons into a unhelpful mental clump, “You, here.” 

The man nodded a little, staring at the map now, squinting at the roman letters printed below the difficult kanji. Taking that as a sign of understanding, she moved her finger along the colored train line, finally resting on Ginza station.

“To leave here. To, ah…” She glanced down at the paper once more, “Hibiya line. [Ah, what was the color for Hibiya…]” Her brow furrowed as she muttered to herself in Japanese; what was the English name for Gray again? She remembered it being surprisingly easy.

“Ah,  _gurei_!” She piped up suddenly, surprising the foreigner out of his intense expression. “ _Gurei_  train.” She nodded sagely. 

Unfortunately, the man seemed just as lost as he had when he stepped on the train. Her confidence faltered a bit, she thought her explanation had been rather good, despite the meager amount of words at her disposal. There was no way she was going to back down now, though. She had already come so far!

“Wait.” Was all she could muster, but she tried to make the command less forceful with a gentle hand gesture, soft smile, and a quickly quipped “please”. They then waited in awkward silence, quietly watching the walls of the subway speed by as they rocked this way and that.  
It wasn’t long before they pulled into the next station.

“[ _Yotsuya. The current station is Yotsuya. Please mind the platform door._ ]”

The foreigner looked at her with mildly concealed alarm, obviously unsure what to do when it came to getting on and off the train. Haruko gently pushed him to one side, squeezing in next to him so as not to disrupt the passengers getting on and off. He continued to watch her intensely, eyes searching for some kind of answer, but Haruko simply shook her head and pointed toward Ginza station on the map once more. 

How could he be getting so confused? She’d been riding the train easily since she was five, was it really so difficult for a grown man to figure it out?

A long fifteen-or-so minutes passed after that, which were much more comfortable now that the man seemed to realize where he was supposed to get off. Though she tried to keep her focus trained away from the intimidating man next to her…she couldn’t help the occasional glance.  
Apparently, neither could he. 

Their eyes had met and parted just as quickly several times before they reached the foreigner’s final destination.

“[ _Ginza Station. The next station is Ginza station…_ ]”

“Next!” Haruko managed, standing on her tip-toes to tap the map once more. “Ginza is next!” 

Wow, she managed to remember ‘is’? She’d have to tell Kiku about that later, he’d certainly be proud! 

The man looked from the map, back to her, before pointing to the paper she had forgotten she was holding. Haruko let out a squeak of realization and quickly handed it back, but not before pointing to the next station on his list.

“Higashi-Ginza is Hibiya train,” There she went, using ‘is’ with the mastery of a native speaker, “ _Gurei_  train.” 

The foreigner looked puzzled once more and Haruko wanted to tear her hair out with frustration. It was the grey line—the  _grey_  line!—why was that so hard to understand? That only left her with one choice. If he didn’t understand after this, then trains would be a lost cause to him.

“[ _Ginza Station. The current station is Ginza station. Please mind the platform door._ ]” 

As soon as the doors opened Haruko took the taller man’s wrist and forcefully dragged him off the train, walking to the middle of the, thankfully empty, station and pointing toward a sign hanging on the wall before them.

“ _Gurei_  train!” She said intensely, pointing toward the grey circle on the sign with a small H in the middle, with ‘Hibiya Line 90m.’ written helpfully in English below it. Not that she could read it, that is. “Ride  _Gurei_  train to Higashi-Ginza!” With that, she glanced hopefully up at the man beside her.

He, surprisingly enough, was looking back at her, with a look of understanding on his face. He opened his mouth to say something when the music signaling the departure of her train began. 

Flinching, Haruko let go of the man’s wrist and booked it back toward her train – stopping to turn and nod in apology before she slipped expertly through the closing doors. Balancing herself as the train started to move, she turned to make sure her foreign acquaintance was alright.

He stood there for a moment, watching as the train set off, before turning and heading in the direction of the Hibiya line. Haruko could have collapsed with relief. 

“[ _For choosing Tokyo Metro for your commute, we humbly thank you. The next station is Tokyo, Tokyo station…_ ]”

She’d thought that was the end of it. The foreigner was on his way to wherever it was he needed to be, she was off to work, and she’d have a great story to tell when she next saw Kiku.

Haruko couldn’t have been any more surprised when she went home that night.

She’d ducked onto the train and found herself a seat between an elderly man, who seemed to be on that fine line between consciousness and sleep, and a very drunk person who was smiling a toothy smile and occasionally laughed to himself. Actually, there were many drunk people lurking around in the train car. The night train always was a bit weird like that.

But it wasn’t until Ginza Station that Haruko had any reason to be perk up more than usual. That man, the foreigner with the strange hair, staggered into the train. He looked around for a place to sit and was about to settle down on the opposite side of the train when he caught her gaze.

Haruko immediately tensed and looked down. That look on his face—was he always that intimidating? She heard him shuffle toward her. He stopped when he was in front of her but was silent for a long moment. Haruko thought she heard the sounds of pages turning.

When she looked up, she found his nose in a little book. It took her a moment to read the English on the cover, but when she did a little light went on in her head.  _Japanese for Beginners_.

”[… _Thank you_.]”

It was gruff, it was  _heavily_  mutilated, and Haruko might have laughed it it was anyone else, but she still caught the meaning. She nodded to him with a tiny ghost of a smile.

"You are welcome." She replied, if not a little roughly, surprised that she even remembered the phrase.

But what was ultimately more surprising was that the foreigner, despite his rough appearance and intimidating facial features, had a genuine smile on his face.


	8. Sealed with a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kiku calls in Haruko for some help with a very special occasion.

Kiku wanted to ask her something, Haruko could tell. She’d known her brother for thousands of years now, and some habits of his never really changed – even ones he had from as far back as the Heian period.

She had come over for a friendly visit, like she usually did on Sunday afternoons, and was currently seated across from Kiku at the low table in his living room. The screen door was open, letting in the occasional cool breeze and creating a pleasant atmosphere. Or, an atmosphere that would be pleasant if Kiku would stop shifting and messing with his clothes and teacup.

When he re-adjusted his robe for the fourth time, Haruko deemed it the right moment to speak up.

“Kiku, you know I can tell something’s up.” She smiled a little as he glanced up; they’d gone through this routine many times in the past. “C’mon, out with it! You know I’m not a mind reader.”  

“It’s…” 

He frowned minutely, thumbs brushing the sides of his tea cup as he thought, contemplating the best way to phrase what he wanted to ask. The faint beginnings of a blush started to work its way onto his face, causing Haruko to grin a little. 

Oh, this would be fun.

“It can’t be that hard to say, can it? I mean, compared to some of the stuff you’ve had to tell me before.” She tilted her head a bit, resting her elbows on the table and spinning the tea cup in front of her gently with both hands. “C’mon, you know you’ll feel better when you get it off your chest.”

Her brother sighed, resigned, and stared at the corner of the table as he formulated what he wanted to say.

“I was wondering if you could, er…” He paused, frown deepening, before suddenly shaking his head. “No, it’s silly, nevermind.”

“Aww, out with it, Kiku! You’ve been fretting over it the past 30 minutes, I can tell!” Haruko leaned forward, wiggling her feet under the table, as though she could bop Kiku into submission with her feet. “Whatever it is, it can’t be silly if it’s been bothering you that much!”

“Haruko, please.” He huffed, pulling his tea cup toward himself and hunching over it slightly, as though shielding himself from her questions. “It’s… ugh. Just, here. Read this.” 

He grabbed his phone, which had been sitting beside him on the table, and unlocked it. After a few quick taps he handed it over to Haruko, who took it and scanned the article she had been handed.

Netherlands…. Valentine’s day…. Stamped with a kiss…?

She could hear Kiku’s defeated sigh when her curious smile turned into an all-out giggle-fit.

“You want to send Miro a valentine’s card by stamping it with a kiss? Kiku, that’s adorable!” She laughed, handing the phone back to the now visibly-bristled Kiku.

“Haruko-!” 

“Well, I don’t see what your problem is.” She continued smoothly, pausing to take a sip from her cup as she tried (and failed) to hide the pleased smirk on her face. “You’ve done weirder things than that, right? What are you getting yourself all worked up for?”

He huffed again, putting on as serious a face as he could (almost sending Haruko into another fit of giggles), avoiding her gaze entirely and staring out toward the veranda this time.

“I…I just thought, because I have to send out the letter early if I wanted to get there on time…” He stared, and Haruko had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. 

No matter what he finished with, it was going to be good.

“I was thinking… perhaps, you could,” His voice was getting quieter as he spoke, the now present blush on his face deepening, and Haruko had to lean closer to hear, “help me with it…?”

Haruko’s face screwed up as she tried to hold in her laugher, but when Kiku glared at her across the table and muttered a warning “Haruko….” she somehow managed to calm down.

“In what way?” She said with what she knew was a wicked grin, but she just couldn’t help it. Kiku rarely – if at all – asked her for help concerning romance, and it had been  _far_  too long since she had anything good to tease him about.

“Well, you know-!” He started shortly before changing his mind. “…It would be strange if I, er, put lipstick on and kissed it myself, don’t you think? So…”

“Kikuuuuuu!” 

Haruko let out another peal of laughter, endlessly amused as the blush on her brother’s face stretched all the way up to his ears. Maybe she should snap a picture and send it to Miro, he would surely appreciate that along with his kiss-stamped letter.  

“I can’t kiss the letter, I’m not the one dating him!” She smiled as her brother slumped a bit, thumbs once again running over the textured sides of his teacup. “If you’re gonna do it at all, it’s gotta be you.”

“But, it’s lipstick, I can’t-” He protested, the words dying on his lips as Haruko suddenly frowned at him. “I-It’d be strange for a man to-”

“Well it’s obviously not  _that_  strange, seeing as you were considering it in the first place!” She said, standing up with a flourish and heading toward her purse, which she had tossed to one side of the kitchen when she came in. “It’s a good thing I always carry makeup around with me, though I don’t know if my shade is really your color…”

“W-wait, Haruko, no, I-I don’t know he’ll—!” He scrambled to get up, knocking his knees on the low table and nearly spilling both of their drinks. “Never mind, this was a silly idea, we don’t need to—!”

“Nope, it’s too late to turn back now! We’re doing this!”

“Haruko—!”

Soon the siblings were in a mad scramble. Haruko, barking out laughter as Kiku chased her around the room. She held the purse up in the air above him, just out of his reach.

"Haruko, please, this is ridiculous." Kiku said, exasperated. "I—I changed my mind, I’ll send him a card with a stamp instead."

They bumped up against the counter top and disrupted the pile of mail there. Haruko turned to look at it, still holding her prized purse away from Kiku’s grabby hands. She lifted the newspaper that obscured everything else and noticed something a bit odd in Kiku’s usual collection of mail.

"Oh my god." Haruko said, letting out a squeal. "Kiku, oh my god, you really ought to see what’s in your mail."

"No changing the subject—!"

Haruko tucked her purse under her arm and handed the stack of mail over to Kiku, who flinched as it was thrust into his chest. He made a face at her, furrowing his eyebrows, before he gently took it. She watched him pick through the neatly folded newspaper, a couple of bills, a friendly letter from their mutual friend, Alfred, before he stopped. 

The last letter, at the bottom of the stack, was in a very fancy envelope. The writing was a bit hard to read, but unmistakable to them both. Haruko had to bite down on her lip to stop the massive grin that was threatening to show up.

The corner was stamped with dark red lipstick, a shade that almost matched Kiku’s face when he saw it.

"Well, fancy that!" Haruko said as Kiku looked up at her in shock. "I guess Miro was quicker than you were!"


	9. The Vegetable Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kiku takes Miro to a special place.

It had been fairly easy to coax Miro out of the house and to have him follow him to a very secret location that required a boat to reach. But now Miro was very curious about exactly where they were headed to. It took all Kiku had in him not to say a word about it. 

“Where did you say it was we were going?” Miro asked, for the third time, as he looked out at the island they were fast approaching.

“I didn’t say anything.” Kiku said. “It’s a surprise.”

Miro let out a grunt and looked down at Kiku before looking out at the water. Kiku craftily hid a smile behind his hand. Miro was definitely going to enjoy the island. He himself didn’t visit it much, but the spot was near and dear to him as a good place to escape for a short time.

After the boat docked and it was safe to disembark, Miro quickly hurried off the boat and onto the island. Kiku trailed after him.

“You said there was something I would enjoy here.” Miro said.

“I did.” Kiku said. “We should see them in a moment.”

Miro paused. He stopped walking to look at Kiku with an eyebrow raised. “Them?”

“You heard me correctly.”

Once they traveled more inland, the inhabitants were upon them. Dozens and dozens of them appeared, hurrying toward them with a ferocity unmatched by any known predator. Miro’s eyes widened.

“….Rabbits.” he said. 

“Yes.” Kiku said.

“This is an island full of rabbits.”

“Indeed it is–Ah.” Kiku reached into the small shoulder bag he was carrying and pulled out two bags of mixed vegetables. He handed one to Miro. “You’re going to need these.”

The rabbits seemed to understand the moment they saw the bags, as some began rearing up on their hind legs and others pawed at their legs. Miro almost looked bewildered by them. Almost. The man did have his own collection of rabbits at home, after all. Nothing of this caliber, but a sizable amount.

Carefully stepping around the herd of feral rabbits, Kiku reached into his own bag and sprinkled out bits of broccoli, carrots, and some other vegetables onto the ground. The rabbits eagerly snatched it up and went after Kiku’s legs for more.

“I should warn you not to let them eat out of your hands, Miro.” Kiku said. “Though they are tamed rabbits, they are still feral. They might bite.”

Miro didn’t reply. Kiku looked back at him and couldn’t fight the urge to smile. There he was, sitting down on the ground, a bunch of vegetables in his hands, the rabbits completely overtaking his lower half in an effort to reach his cupped hands. Kiku chuckled.

Miro looked up at him, his usually stern gaze soft and hopeful. “Do we…have any more vegetables?” he asked.

“No,” Kiku said, “but I did bring some of Pyon’s rabbit food.”

“That’ll do fine.”

Kiku dug through the bag, pushing aside other things–his phone, camera, some brochures, a map–to find the stashed bags of rabbit food. But when he turned to hand one to Miro, it was too late. All that was left of the taller man was his feet and hands, the rest of him conquered by the wild rabbits, who were bobbing their heads and hopping on him.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself?” Kiku said.

Miro gestured for him to approach. Kiku did so, squatting down so he could see Miro’s face through all the rabbits.

“You should try this.” Miro said with a grin. “It’s great.”

“I’d rather not dirty myself.”

“I see.” Miro shifted under the weight of the bunnies. Some of them jumped off in surprise, but they otherwise seemed unaffected by the moving mass under their feet. “You know,” Miro continued, “there’s a secret to keeping from getting dirty on the ground like this.”

“Oh? And what might that be?”

He got no response except for an arm shooting out at him, grabbing his left arm, and pulling him down to the dirty ground.

“Oh–Ah–No, really, I-I don’t want to–!”

But it was too late. The rabbits smelled the bag of rabbit food and left Miro to go after him. Kiku found himself smiling and then laughing as they piled on him, jabbing him in the stomach, sitting on his legs, and putting their whiskers on his face.

“Ah…I’ve become overrun.” Kiku said, trying to stop chuckling as the rabbits pushed each other in an effort to get to his hands. Some of them nibbled the bag. Their furry faces tickled his hands. “Ah–N-no, stop–! Miro, help!”

Miro sat back up and crossed his arms with a big fat smirk on his face. “Oh, of course. One moment…” He picked up two of the smaller rabbits trying to get on Kiku and placed them on Kiku’s shoulders. Said person yelped.

“Ack!” Kiku said in surprise. “That wasn’t what I–Ah!” He let out a string of chuckles as the babies tickled at his face. He looked up at Miro, pressing his face into a fine line for only a moment before the facade broke again. “You’re terrible…”

Miro pushed a couple rabbits out of his lap and leaned over to kiss Kiku on the forehead, the only spot where the rabbits couldn’t seem to get to.

“And you’re a mess.”


	10. Shortbread Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kiku is bad at surprises. Or maybe Miro is just that good at reading his partner's body language.

Kiku’s excuse had been that they were all out of cigarettes. Miro, having just gone to look for some not ten minutes prior to the statement, knew this to be false. But it wasn’t in Kiku’s nature to be such a straightforward liar, which left Miro suspicious.

And he knew how to read Kiku’s behavior.

“Are you sure?” Miro said. “I thought I saw some in the cupboard.”

Kiku nodded confidently, but his eyes were elsewhere else once Miro raised an eyebrow. “Yes. I’m quite sure.” he said. “I’d like to have some after dinner. I would very much appreciate it if you went and picked some up for us.”

“Alright. Why don’t you come along then?”

Kiku’s eyes widened, but only slightly. He was trying not to look panicked. “N…No, there are still things that I have to do here.” he said a bit too quickly. Miro restrained the urge to smirk.

“Such as?”

Kiku hardened his expression, pressing his lips into a fine line and squaring his shoulders. He knew Miro was probing. But clearly this wasn’t something he was allowed to know about just yet.

“Miro, really, if it’s not too troublesome…”

Miro raised a hand. “Alright, alright. I’ll go get them.” Miro said with a sigh and a shake of the head.

Kiku saw him to the door and directed him to where the convenience store was located. Miro knew where it was already, but he played along. Kiku was nervous, too nervous, about something and wasn’t ready to say what it was yet. That was alright. He’d ask once he got back.

The convenience store was several blocks away but no more than a ten minute walk at worst. The man at the counter greeted him politely and he nodded in reply. A few younger children buying sweets looked at each other and whispered in Japanese. Something about him being extremely tall, but Miro was too preoccupied with other thoughts to bother listening to their not so quiet conversation.

He walked to where he knew the cigarettes were and picked out a couple packs of the brand he knew Kiku liked, and that he, too, enjoyed. He twirled the packs around in his hands, absentmindedly looking at the labels, the ingredients, the finely printed warnings in Japanese.

What was Kiku hiding from him? Was it something bad? He huffed. It  _would_  be just like Kiku to want to hide something bad from him, wouldn’t it. The man was honest, and seemed to pride himself on being polite, but Kiku disliked talking about any sorts of problems straight forwardly.

Was there a problem between them, though? Maybe there was. Miro couldn’t recall a problem.

Returning to the front desk, he put the packs down on the counter with a bit too much force, startling the cashier. Said person looked up to meet Miro’s eyes for a split second before he rang up the order without a word. Miro knew his face probably looked fierce.

“<Will….will that be all, sir?>” the cashier said, sending Miro a polite smile.

“<Yes. Thank you.>” Miro replied, if not a bit gruffly.

The man placed the two packs and a receipt into a plastic bag and gently handed it to Miro. He then bowed politely as Miro left through the sliding doors, but Miro payed him no mind. He was still thinking about Kiku. The moment he walked in those doors, he was going to have a chat with him. A polite one.

The kids who had been watching him were now on the street. They were still watching him. Miro rolled his eyes. Being as tall as he was in this country was a sight to behold, he supposed. But it was a bit rude to constantly stare at him. He eyed them. They froze and hurried away, chattering to themselves again.

Once Miro noticed Kiku’s house in the distance, he sighed. Kiku probably knew that Miro had been suspicious of his behavior, and he wondered how awkward it was going to be confronting the issue, whatever it was. Would it be yanking the futon off difficult, or showing up with a pot of tulips and a Miffy doll difficult?

He approached the door slowly and, hesitating, he knocked. 

A metal bowl dropped. There was the muffled sound of Japanese inside. Frantic Japanese. Then more metal hitting metal, lighter this time. Shuffling. Kiku was at the door for a split second before hurrying away.

Miro blinked. What on earth was going on in there?

“Kiku?” he called. “Kiku, is everything okay in there?”

There was a long silence before Kiku answered.

“I…I remembered that we were also out of prawns!” Kiku said. “I was going to text you, but I’d forgotten. But where I usually purchase them is–”

Miro caught a whiff of something from the kitchen. Something…sweet. He sniffed. The unmistakable smell of hot baking dough was in the air. Was Kiku….baking? He glanced toward the window, which was conveniently blocked by the blinds. That would explain the metal bowl.

“What are you getting up to, Kiku?” he muttered to himself.

He tried the doorknob.

The door was unlocked.

He let himself in and, taking off his shoes first, went into the house. The smell was stronger. This time Miro could identify it; cookies. Kiku was making cookies. And if he was right, they were shortbread. Miro tiptoed to the kitchen and peered in.

There he was, Moomin apron tied daintily around his waist with both oven mitts still on his hands, impatiently watching the clock as the seconds ticked away. The oven revealed a long pan of cookies slowly cooking away in Kiku’s tiny oven. His kitchen was an absolute mess. That never happened. Kiku’s hair was fluffed up. That didn’t happen either.

Then, Miro noticed what was sitting in a bowl, dirtied. He smirked.

“Is this why you wanted me out of the house so badly?”

Kiku whirled around, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide open. Miro held the tiny Miffy cookie cutter between two of his fingers.

“I…I….the door…” Kiku sighed and his shoulders sagged. “…I knew I forgot something.” Miro placed the bag of cigarettes on a free space on the counter and walked up to him. “It was supposed to be a surprise…but you came here earlier than I’d expected. I’m sorry.”

“Ha. And here I thought there was some bigger problem.” Kiku looked up at him. Miro was smiling a lopsided smile. “You could have just told me. I’m sure it would have been more enjoyable to make them together.”

Though Miro would have probably smacked his head on something. Or would knock something over. When Kiku raised an oven mitt-clad hand to his mouth to hide a smile, Miro knew that he was thinking the same thing. He leaned down and pecked Kiku on the cheek.

“Still…it  _is_  a nice surprise.” Miro continued. “They would be good with tea, don’t you think?”

Kiku smiled wider and the oven mitt wasn’t much good at hiding it this time.

“I was thinking the same thing.”


End file.
